Beginnings
by AtlantisGirl12
Summary: Request fic for Silvanelf. How did Arthur meet Cobb anyway? Lots of angst.
1. Teaser Chapter

**A/N: The prompt for this fic was provided by Silvanelf. *waves to Silvanelf* I'll give the gist of the prompt at the end of the fic because if I do it now, it will give the plot away. bwuhahaha! :D But I WILL tell you that this will have mucho angst...I can't do fluffy fics...well, I can, but this is much more fun! :) Anyway, sorry this is rather short. This teaser is just to get me back into writing as I just got back this afternoon. :D (My mission trip was AWESOME btw!) I hope to write the rest of this within the next few days, but we'll see, as I'm going to have to get ready for college (and catch up on my rest). Anyway, enjoy!**

**.**

**Beginnings**

Arthur gave a quick flick of his wrist, sending the small red die skipping down the table.

Six.

He sighed. There were some days—no, a lot of days—that he wished reality were a dream…that he could immerse himself into the world of the dream and create for himself a new life. Too bad things didn't work that way.

Rubbing his temples, he reached for the loaded die and twisted his fingers back and forth around it. His eyes drifted aimlessly around the interior of the warehouse. He and Dom were in London again, working another extraction job. It was more of the usual—break into a business man's mind, steal his company's secrets, deliver them to the rival company. It wasn't ethical, but it paid the bills.

With a sigh, Arthur got up and walked over to his whiteboard covered in notes. The jobs seemed to run together these days. He figured it was because they were so similar. The dreams themselves were usually fairly boring; many businessmen had yet to have their sub-consciousness trained against extraction. Still, he lived for the rush one got when entering a dream. No matter how boring the dream, it was always better than reality.

It kept him from remembering.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Eight Years Earlier_

Arthur stared out at the old house as the taxi came to a stop at the side of the road. The shutters were warped and hanging, the paint peeling in large chunks, and the tiny lawn bare in many places.

"This the place, son?"

The young man swallowed hard at the kind cabbie's words. _Son._ How pathetic was it that he clung to an expression being used by a stranger.

"Yeah, this is it. Thanks." He climbed out and paid the man. Gripping the handle of his lone suitcase, he watched as the cab drove away. For a moment, he wished he could run after the car and head back into the city. Too bad there was nothing for him there anymore.

"Arthur!"

He turned at the sound of an excited voice and saw a little boy running towards him. "Jason!" He grinned at his little brother and held his arms out for a hug. "I missed you."

Jason grinned, showing a gap for his two front teeth. "I missed you more! I made a fishing pole, but you weren't there to fish with me," he pouted.

Arthur ruffled his hair. "Well, we'll have to fix that, won't we, kid." He straightened and looked towards the house. "Mom and Dad home?"

"Yeah." Jason wrinkled his nose. "But they didn't want to come outside." He started up the walk and glanced up at his older brother. "What you all dressed up for? Did you go to a wedding?"

Arthur laughed. "No, I—"

"A funeral?" His nine-year-old brother interrupted.

"No, that's just how you dress when you're at college."

Jason wrinkled his forehead. "Oh." He paused. "Are you going back there?"

Sighing, Arthur gave him a little push. "Let's go inside, Jason."

Walking into the house brought a swell of memories. The house hadn't changed. The drab flower wallpaper still covered the walls, though he could see a few more spots and holes. The rickety oak hat hanger still leaned in the corner. Most prevalent of all was the smell of stale beer that wafted throughout the house. No, things hadn't changed.

"Mom, Arthur's back!" Jason yelled, running into the kitchen. His older brother followed reluctantly.

His mom was facing the stove, stirring a pot of a stew when he entered the kitchen. "Arthur." It was all she said, but it looked like her eyes softened a little.

"Mom." He went over to the stove and gave her a hug. "I missed you." It wasn't the complete truth, but he _did _miss her in a way…he missed the days when she loved him the way a mother loves a son.

Her arms were stiff as he hugged her, but slowly they came up to rest awkwardly on his back. He stepped back and turned to his father, holding out his hand. "Hi Dad."

The burly man at the table only flicked the paper roughly and pointedly ignored the proffered hand. Arthur glared at his father. So things really hadn't changed. "Guess I'll go ahead upstairs and unpack."

His dad looked up quickly. "Stayin' long?"

"Nathan!" His mother hissed.

Arthur met his challenging gaze. "No."

"Good." His dad returned to his paper.

Arthur turned on his heel to go out the room and caught sight of his brother looking wide-eyed and nervous. "C'mon, squirt." He motioned and they went up to Arthur's old room.

oOo

The tension was thick and heavy that night at dinner. His mom plopped a plate of congealed spaghetti in front of him, but he had no appetite. He pushed around the noodle mass, taking small bites here and there. At the head of the table, his father sat glowering. Jason sat across from Arthur, still somewhat oblivious to the heat in the room; after all, he had only been six when Arthur left. He didn't understand what had happened. But sooner or later, the subject would be broached. It was only a matter of time.

Slamming down his can of beer, Nathan scowled at his oldest son. _I guess that time is now_, Arthur thought to himself.

"I won't have no son of mine putting on airs!"

Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "It's not putting on airs. I worked hard to get through my freshman year. Four years, in fact!" He paused and glared at his father. "I would have thought you would have been proud of me."

His dad sneered. "What, that you're paying good money to be one of them? A no-good lying scum they call a businessman?" He gestured wildly. "Look around you! This is what their kind made us! Dirt poor with the house about to fall down around our heads!"

"Maybe if you spent more time looking for a job and less time drinking, things wouldn't be like this," Arthur muttered.

A silence fell over the room.

"What did you say to me," his father said in a dangerously quiet voice.

His mom and Jason watched nervously.

Arthur met his eyes defiantly. "Nothing."

"What did you say, boy?" he roared.

Arthur glared back, but a cold weight formed in his stomach and he felt a twinge of fear. There was nothing for it now. "I said your drinking is why things are like this."

Nathan stood up so fast the chair knocked over. Reaching over, he grabbed Arthur's shirt collar and hauled him to his feet. "That's what I thought I heard." He slapped Arthur's face hard and dropped him on the floor. "You're not worth anything. You shoulda stayed where you belong…with the garbage!" He stalked out of the room.

Arthur slowly got to his feet, his cheek still stinging from the force of the blow.

"Why do you always ruin everything?" his mother started to cry. "Things were just fine and then you come back and now he's gone off again!" She started clearing the table. "Why did you come back, Arthur?" She asked softly. "Can't you see there's nothing for you here anymore?" She grabbed her cigarettes from the counter and went out onto the porch.

Arthur pulled out a chair and slumped at the table. Why had he come back? He had known it would be like this. Suddenly he felt a small hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw Jason staring back at him with wide, scared eyes.

"Arthur?" His voice trembled.

"Oh squirt. I'm so sorry you had to hear that. It's okay." He drew his little brother into a hug and felt his shirt grow damp with tears.

"Dad says it's wrong to cry and all the other kids would call me a sissy," Jason hiccupped.

"Don't listen to them. Even I cry sometimes." _Like now._

"Honest?" Jason leaned back and looked up at him.

Arthur wiped a tear track away. "Promise." He pulled his brother back in close and listened to him cry softly. This was why he had come back home.

oOo

The next couple of days dragged by slowly. However, his parents had decided to give him the silent treatment and pretend that he didn't exist, so life was a bit more cheerful, even though he still felt a pang now and then at the fact that they didn't really love him. But this loss was bearable because of Jason. His little brother was like a breath of fresh air and Arthur was determined to make the most of his time with him. They went on walks, played catch, and wrestled. On the third day, Arthur decided it was time for something really special.

"Alright squirt," he said as he watched Jason trying to catch Cheerios in his mouth. "Today's the day I take you fishing."

Jason looked up excitedly. "Really? But it's raining!"

"Best time to go. You don't mind if you get a little wet, do you?"

"No, let's go!"

Arthur laughed as Jason ran upstairs to get his pole.

"I'm going fishing with Arthur, Mom!" His brother hollered.

A non-committal grunt was heard from the living room as they left the house.

"Where are we going?" Jason asked, trotting at Arthur's side.

Arthur winked. "It's a surprise."

They walked for a few minutes as the rain grew steadier. They were a bit wet, but neither cared. Soon, they came to the river, its banks a rather steep slope.

"Be careful here," Arthur cautioned. "The rain's made this place really muddy and Mom would kill me if you tracked a bunch of this stuff into the house. Plus, the river's actually kind of deep here. Wouldn't want you falling in!"

Jason nodded and together they picked their way down the embankment. After fifteen minutes, Arthur caught a small fish. He held it up triumphantly before putting it in the bucket.

"No fair!" Jason pouted.

Arthur laughed at his expression. "Don't worry, squirt. First time's always unlucky."

Twenty minutes passed. Then…

"I got one, I got one!" Jason whooped and hollered as his line bent.

"Good job! Just reel him in slowly, that's it."

Jason carefully pulled in the fish. As it lifted out of the water, he held it up proudly. "Look at how big it is!" He started to try to pull it wriggling body off the hook. "I wish it would stop moving…hey!" The fish, now free of the hook, suddenly lurched in his grasp. Trying to catch hold of it, Jason lunged forward and slipped on some of the mud.

"Jason!" Arthur tried to grab one of his brother's flailing arms, but to no avail. He heard a sickening thud as Jason fell in the water, his head connecting with the side of a rock. Quickly, Arthur jumped into the water, heedless of the freezing temperature. "Jason!" He yelled again. Though the water only reached his waist, the river was moving faster than he thought. He could see his brother's limp body floating quickly downstream. He plowed forward, falling a couple of times, but he scarcely felt the sharp stones that cut into his shins.

At last, he felt his fingers enclose on Jason's t-shirt. Pulling him close, Arthur scooped him up into his arms and staggered to the shore.

"Hey! What's going on down there?" He heard a voice shout.

Glancing up, he saw a man standing by the road. "Call an ambulance!" He shouted back. He didn't look to see if the man followed his instructions, only turned to his brother lying pale-faced on the ground. "Jason?" His heart lurched at the sight of dark blood staining the side of Jason's temple.

Pressing his fingers against the side of his neck, he felt a pulse and let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. He placed his hand on his brother's chest and felt his own heart lurch when he realized Jason wasn't breathing. Quickly, he bent down and began mouth to mouth.

He didn't know how long he knelt there, trying to breathe life back into his little brother. It seemed like an eternity before he heard the sirens and felt hands pulling him away. He stood in a daze as they loaded Jason in the ambulance, then was escorted to ride in the back on the way to the hospital. He clutched Jason's small, cold hand—the one that didn't have the IV—the entire way. It was only when the EMTs pried his fingers away to allow the doctors to whisk Jason away that he let go.

"Hold on, squirt," he whispered. "It'll be okay. It's got to be."

**A/N: Blahhhhh…Don't know how I feel about this chapter. I know it was rather predictable and there's probably more than a few clichés, but I hope it was acceptable! :-/ I purposefully left out the name of the city (though I might have mentioned it—can't remember) because I'm not really familiar with cities (other than D.C.). Personally, I'm thinking NYC, but I didn't want to mention it cuz I don't know the geography there. Also, if there are any plot holes, let me know and I will try to fix them in the next chapter. :P **


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Have basically no medical knowledge except for what I've read in fanfics and seen in tv, so bear with the lack of realism. :P **

**Chapter 2**

Arthur didn't know how long he sat there in the hard hospital chair. He stared at the dotted tile floor, the red spots reminding him of his brother's blood.

"Excuse me, sir?" A nurse stood before him, a clipboard in her hand. "Would you mind filling this information out for me?"

Wordlessly, he took the clipboard from her hand as she continued.

"Also, do you have a parent or guardian of the child that we can call? We need to have the parent's signatures. There's a phone right over there if you'd like to use it."

At that, Arthur lifted his head. His parents. He dreaded what they would say when they would find out. "Could you…could you do it?" He asked softly, hating the brokenness in his tone.

She laid a warm hand on his shoulder. "Of course. If you could just provide me with the numbers, I'll do it right away."

He quickly scribbled down the number and watched her scurry away. He turned to the papers before him. Allergies? None. Any recent illnesses? He didn't know. Past medical history? Again, he couldn't answer. Mentally, Arthur berated himself. He had missed so much of Jason's life. When he had left, Jason was no more than a perky five year old who had a penchant for squirting him with water whenever he could.

Arthur smiled at the memory. Little Squirt. Now he was a cheerful nine year old whose grin seemed a permanent expression on his face. Arthur didn't kid himself that Jason's home life was any easier than his. Sure, Jason might be favored over his older brother, but that was only when Arthur was home. A drunken father didn't have any favorites when all he saw when he came home was a kid to blame life on.

Arthur dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands, relishing the pain it brought. He would never forgive himself for leaving Jason to live in abuse. As the older brother, _he_ should have taken the brunt of it—it was his responsibility. And he fled from it like a coward. He was a selfish good-for-nothing just like his parents said. What kind of a person leaves a little kid to deal with a man's job?

"Sir?"

Lifting his head, Arthur saw the doctor standing next to him. He jumped to his feet. "How is he, is he going to be okay?"

The doctor—Smith, his badge said—laid a hand on his arm. "Now, it's too early to tell exactly what the outcome will be. Jason has had some rather severe head trauma. Our preliminary tests show that it looks like Jason has some swelling in his brain. We want to do surgery as soon as possible before the pressure increases further. Are your parents here?"

"No, no…not yet. The nurse called them a little while ago." Surgery? His mind was reeling. "Will he be okay?" He had to ask.

The doctor put his hands in his pockets. "Like I said, it's too early to make an accurate prognosis. Head injuries can be extremely tricky to diagnosis. Please understand that we will do everything we can to help your brother. He is in the best possible care."

Arthur's shoulders slumped a little. He hated the medical jargon, the hedged comments that the doctors used to shield themselves. "Can I see him? Is he awake?"

Dr. Smith nodded. "You may see him, but only for a few minutes. He is awake, but extremely groggy and disoriented. Right this way." He escorted him to a room tucked away in the emergency center.

"Remember, just a few minutes." With that the doctor left.

Arthur sat down in the chair beside the bed and held his brother's hand. He traced around the IV that was taped on the back and felt his soft fingers. Leaning forward, he smoothed back the hair from Jason's white face.

"Jason?" He felt hope soar within him when his brother's eyes opened a slit. "Hey Squirt…how you feel?"

"My head hurts," came the soft, raw voice.

Arthur laid a cool hand lightly against the swath of stained bandages around Jason's head. "It's okay. The doctors are going to fix you up real good. You'll be better than new. Just stay strong, okay?"

A tear started to form in the corner of Jason's eye and sniffed loudly.

"Hey, it's okay," Arthur soothed. "Remember, I told you it's okay to cry."

Jason looked up at him, in too much pain to nod. "I love you Arthur," he whispered.

Arthur felt the tears form in his own eyes at his brother's devotion. "I love you too, Jason." He watched as those precious eyes started to slide close.

"Arthur, I'm scared," he heard Jason say before his brother fell asleep again.

He looked at his sleeping—or unconscious—form. "Me too, Squirt. Me too."

oOo

As he stepped out of the hospital room, Arthur could hear angry voices coming from the waiting room.

"Where is he?" he heard his father shout. "So help me I'm gonna—"

"Sir." Now the doctor's calm voice. "Your son is in capable hands. However, this is a hospital. I'm going to have to ask you to lower your voice or the orderlies will have to escort you out."

Nathan must have calmed down, at least to an extent, because the waiting room grew quiet again. The doctor came around the corner to where Arthur stood.

"He passed out again," Arthur said unnecessarily.

Doctor Smith gave him a reassuring look. "It's to be expected. I'm going to let your parents see him now, if you'd like to wait out in the waiting area."

Arthur nodded. Walking out into the waiting room, he saw his mother sitting in one of the chairs, twisting her fingers. Nathan was stalking the breadth of the chairs. He glared at his older son.

"This is your fault," he started to growl.

"Sir?" The doctor interrupted smoothly. "You can see your son now for a few minutes."

"We'll discuss this later," Nathan threatened. He followed his wife and the doctor into the room.

Arthur slumped in one of the empty seats and waited for their return. It wouldn't be pretty, he knew. A few minutes later he wasn't disappointed. His father came scowling out of the room, closely followed by his mother, who was crying softly.

"Now this surgery is not without a few risks," the doctor was saying. "I must warn you: there is a chance Jason may not make it." He held up a hand at the gasp from Arthur's mom. "I assure you, we will do everything in our power to save him." He paused. "I know this is extremely upsetting for you both right now, but I need your permission to do Jason's surgery. I'm afraid it can't wait," the doctor explained.

"Yeah, go ahead an' do it," Nathan said. "And if he dies, it's on **his** head!" He jutted his chin at Arthur.

The doctor gave Nathan a shrewd look but said only, "Very well. This surgery will probably take 2-3 hours. You're more than welcome to wait in our waiting room and there's a coffee maker just around the corner." He made some goodbye comments and hurried off.

oOo

The hours dragged by. Arthur had been standing by the window watching the rain fall for the past 30 minutes. He turned at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall and hoped that this time, it would be Doctor Smith. He was right. The doctor rounded the corner and walked over to them. Arthur felt the tiny flame of hope extinguish when he saw the look of pity on the doctor's face.

No. It couldn't be.

"I'm so sorry. The damage was much more extensive than we thought." The man lowered his head. "There was nothing we could do."

"Jason?"

Arthur felt his heart break at his mother's piteous cry.

The doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"Noooo!" She wailed. She collapsed to the ground, weeping and rocking herself.

There had to be a mistake. Jason? Arthur felt the tears prick his eyes and he clenched his jaw in an effort to keep from sobbing. Squirt? He couldn't be gone…he couldn't.

Nathan turned to his son. "You!" he yelled. His face was a mask of fury.

Arthur started to back away. "I'm sorry, believe me, I—"

"Shut it!" His father grabbed him by the collar and hauled him out of his chair. Arthur could hear the doctor shouting for orderlies. Don't bother, he wanted to say. Let Nathan kill him. He deserved it.

"You good-for-nothing brat! What, you felt that walking out on this family wasn't enough, you had to go and kill your little brother?" He slapped him so hard, Arthur's ears rung and he tasted coppery liquid as his lip split open. The gold ring on his father's hand hit his cheekbone and Arthur knew he'd a beauty of a welt soon.

"Nathan!" His mother pleaded, sobbing.

"Sir!" Hands grabbed his dad's arms and pulled him off his son. As the orderlies and security started to haul the man away, the doctor called for a nurse and reached for Arthur's rapidly swelling face.

"Just leave me alone!" Arthur yelled. He broke free of the man's grip and raced out of the hospital, ignoring the shouts and calls after him. He ran to the front of the hospital and stopped a taxi.

"Downtown," he gasped out.

The cabbie looked over his shoulder. "You sure, man? You don't look so hot." At Arthur's glare he shrugged. "Okay, okay. Anyplace special?"

Arthur shook his head. "Just…anywhere." He leaned back and stared out the window. It was still raining. How appropriate. He watched it pelting the window and felt his heart break a little more. Jason loved the rain.

"This good?" The cabbie's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Arthur glanced up startled to have arrived so soon. He paid the cabbie with the rest of his cash and got out the car. The sidewalks were still busy even in the downpour. He looked up and squinted as the rain hurtled down towards his face. The rain had grown steadier now and he was soon soaked to the skin. He wandered aimlessly, his legs moving mechanically. He soon found himself walking alone on the bridge spanning the river. He went out to the middle and watched the water moving past.

_"I got one, I got one!" Jason whooped and hollered as his line bent. _

_ "Good job! Just reel him in slowly, that's it." _

_ Jason carefully pulled in the fish. As it lifted out of the water, he held it up proudly. "Look at how big it is!" _

Arthur closed his eyes at the memory. "Jason," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have taken care of you." The tears were flowing now, mingling with the rain on his face.

_"Dad says it's wrong to cry and all the other kids would call me a sissy," Jason hiccupped. _

_ "Don't listen to them. Even I cry sometimes." Like now._

_ "Honest?" Jason leaned back and looked up at him. _

_ Arthur wiped a tear track away. "Promise." He pulled his brother back in close and listened to him cry softly._

"I'm crying now, Jason," he choked. "Can you see?" He leaned against the side of the bridge and watched the water. The sight was mesmerizing. Just a quick hop over the side of railing, a step into nothingness and he'd be with his brother. Arthur closed his eyes. Jason. The light of his life. The reason he had kept going each day. Fresh tears started as he thought of the dreams he'd had of earning enough money to go to college and get a good job so he could spirit Jason and away. He imagined them living together, just the two of them. There was no point now.

He felt himself lifting a leg over the side, then the other. He stared out over the water. There was something about getting ready to die that made you feel more alive at that moment than ever before. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. Faintly, he could hear car tires squealing as they came to a sudden stop and shouts. He ignored them. "I'm coming, Jason." He started to lean forward...he was falling….

Suddenly hands grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him backwards. He tried to fight them, but his head connected with the metal bridge and he collapsed safely on the other side. He tried to stay conscious, his eyelashes fluttering against pale cheeks.

"Dom, his face," was the last thing he heard, spoken in a soft, lilting French accent.

Two worried faces blurred above him just as everything went dark.

_I'm sorry, Jason._

**A/N: Erm…good, bad? I hope you liked it! Hope it wasn't too dramatic and whatnot…only have the epilogue left before this story is finished. Personally, I'm super excited about the epilogue, because, as I was telling one reviewer, I got this idea about Arthur's character that I'm so excited to share. Unfortunately, it didn't get put in this chapter like I hoped. So I have to wait to see what you think (and rather impatiently, I might add!). lol Anyway, hope you enjoyed this…will be trying to update Vincit Qui Se Vincit next, but I'm stalled because I can't think of a job! (ie the dream heist job). **** Grr…so annoying. Anyway, enough of this uber long a/n. Thanks for reading and please review. **


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Well, this originally was just going to be an epilogue, but my sister convinced me to write another chapter. :P Sorry it was so long in coming! School is getting busy already (HATE homework!) but I am doing my best to continue writing fanfiction. Enjoy!**

**.**

He was lying on something soft. That was the first thing Arthur realized when he came to. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see a room tastefully decorated with antique furniture in mahogany. A brightly colored quilt lay across him. Where was he? He could hear someone singing in French somewhere in the house. They were coming closer. As the doorknob turned, Arthur tried to push himself off the bed, but realized to his shock that he was too weak.

"Am I a threat, that you should act so?" An accented and amused voice said.

Arthur looked up and saw a kind looking woman standing in the doorway, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

"Really, you should still rest." She stepped further into the room and he saw that she bore a tray of something hot and steaming. "You made yourself quite sick, you know."

"Sick?" He found his voice finally.

Carefully, she set down the tray and pulled over a chair. "_Oui_, very sick. Dom and I found you three days ago."

His mouth opened in astonishment. "Three days?"

She nodded. "You had no papers, no…" She paused and frowned. "What is the word? No identification. We did not know who to call. Can I—"

"No," he cut her off. "There's no one. Who are you?" He asked bluntly.

She laughed, a tinkling, light sound. "I am Mal Cobb. My husband Dom saved you on the bridge. And you?"

"Arthur."

Mal studied him intently, noting the lack of a last name. "And what were you doing on the bridge, Arthur?"

He looked away.

"It is no matter." She waved her hands in dismissal. "It is not my place to ask. Now please, eat your soup. You must get your strength back. Dom will wish to speak with you when he returns." She got up to leave. "And Arthur?" She paused at the door. "Whatever you were doing up there, remember: alone you cannot save yourself." With that, she left, shutting the door softly.

oOo

Arthur was able to join Dom and Mal that evening for dinner. He edged his way into the kitchen where Mal and he assumed Dom were putting the food onto the table. Mal looked up at him with a smile.

"Hello, Arthur. I am so glad you can join us." She lay a hand on the man's shoulder. "This is my husband Dom."

Arthur shuffled a little further into the room, hands in his pockets. "I guess I should thank you for helping me."

Dom shook his head. "No need. I'm glad we were able to." He gestured at the table. "Why don't you sit down and we'll eat." He sat down at the small table, Mal beside him. Arthur awkwardly took the seat on the other side of Dom.

"The food is delicious," Dom commented a few minutes later.

"Yeah," Arthur mumbled.

Mal smiled at them both. "_Merci_." She tapped the edge of the pasta bowl. "Have more, Arthur. You must regain your strength, and you need much more meat on your bones."

He shrugged in response. "I don't eat much."

"Then we must fix that."

Dom leaned over conspiratorially. "I think you'll find it's just best to do whatever she says. Resistance is futile." He winked at his wife's indignant huff.

Arthur gave a half-hearted smile. "Look," he began, setting down his fork on his empty plate. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I don't understand why. I don't even know you."

Dom met his eyes earnestly. "Everyone deserves a second chance, Arthur. We didn't know why you were up there on that bridge about to jump, but I knew we had to stop you…to give you a chance to think life over."

Arthur looked away. Part of him was angry at their decision. What gave them the right to intervene? And yet….

"Arthur." At Mal's soft voice, he glanced up at her and found himself held by her magnetic gaze. "You may never choose to tell us why, but always terrible things seem darkest when they first happen. The pain may even last a while. But you, you must find that courage deep within yourself to continue forward. Know that you are not alone—"

"Yes I am," he cut her off bitterly.

"No, no you are not," she pressed, grabbing his hand with her soft one. "You now have Dom and me and we will always be there to help you, but you must allow us to do so."

Arthur looked down at her hand clasping his. He felt the tears springing to his eyes and hated himself for it. Even before everything, he had longed for a real family, one that wouldn't let him down or abandon him when they tired of his presence. What if this were too good to be true?

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what I had done," he whispered.

"Try us." Dom's voice was calm and reassuring.

Arthur started to open his mouth. He wanted to, he wanted to tell them everything and hear their promises that it was okay. "I can't." He looked down at the table in shame.

Mal squeezed the hand she still held. "It's alright. If you ever change your mind, we will listen."

Looking up, Arthur saw the truth in both their eyes. But deep down he feared that his truth would replace theirs with judgment.

oOo

"This is a PASIV device," Dom was explaining three months later. Arthur was now living in the guest room in the basement. The older man had helped him find a job in the city and Arthur paid him with a small portion of his earnings and helped with odd jobs and watching Philippa and baby James.

"What's it do?" Arthur asked.

Dom smiled, one of those slow grins that he gave when he was excited about something. "It allows you to enter and create a dream, even someone else's."

"You're kidding, right?" laughed Arthur. "That's impossible."

"No it isn't. It's relatively new. My father-in-law was one of the principle researchers in the development." He motioned to Arthur. "Lie down."

Bewildered and more than a little apprehensive, Arthur complied. He listened in amazement as Dom proceeded to explain more of the nuances and intricacies of dream technology and what was involved. When he finished, Dom picked up what looked almost like an IV line.

"When I insert this in your arm, you'll go to sleep and 'awake' in your sub-conscious. Don't worry, I'll be right behind you. You probably won't even realize we're in a dream." He deftly inserted the needle and Arthur soon felt his eyes closing in sleep.

Arthur walked down the road. He could see his house in the distance. Squinting, he thought he saw Jason playing in the front yard. "Jason?" His pace quickened.

"Arthur."

A voice behind him made him pause. Looking behind him, he saw Dom Cobb. "Dom?" His brow furrowed. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm in your dream."

"Dream?" Arthur laughed incredulously. "This isn't a dream."

Dom walked toward him. "Are you sure? How did you get here?"

Arthur frowned. "I just…" He glanced behind him. How did he get here?

"This is what's called shared dreaming. Right now we're both connected to the PASIV machine. Remember me telling you about it?"

"So, this isn't…this isn't real?" His heart started beating faster.

The older man shook his head. "No, all this is your sub-conscious. The people you see around you are what we call projections. They too are part of your mind."

Arthur shook his head. "No, you're wrong. You're wrong!" He ran down the street to his house. "Jason! Jason!"

"Arthur?" His little brother stood up. "Arthur! I missed you!" He ran to his older brother and hugged him tightly.

Arthur leaned down and returned the embrace. No, this was real. It had to be. He forced down the gnawing sense of _wrongness _that lingered in his mind.

"Arthur." Dom tugged on his shoulder. "He's just a projection. He's not real."

"You're wrong!" Arthur started to pull his brother away. "He's real, he has to be!"

"Arthur? What's he saying?" His little brother's voice was questioning, but had a hardness to it that Arthur had never heard before.

Without warning, the house they had grown up in stretched and grew several stories. Several more tall buildings sprouted out of the ground beside it, joined together by a glass bridge.

"Wh—" Arthur stared up in disbelief at the scene before his eyes. He turned around to look at Dom and was shocked to see neighbors and passersby starting to encircle him and Dom. He glanced down and saw that even his own brother was glaring at his friend with such hostility, that Arthur could barely recognize him.

"Jason?" He tried to pull his brother away, but Jason shook off his touch and advanced toward Dom. "What's going on?" Arthur turned around in a circle as both strangers and people he knew stalked closer.

"The projections are sensing that I'm an alien presence in your mind. It's an automatic defense mechanism; you can't control it," Dom said calmly. "Don't worry; they won't hurt you."

Arthur barely heard his words. "Stop!" He cried. His command had no effect. "Please, Jason…"

At that moment, the projections froze. There was a briefest second of a lull—no more than a couple seconds—before the world seemed to explode. Windows shattered and the towering building began to collapse, exploding from the inside out.

"The dream is collapsing, Arthur. Don't move."

Arthur watched as the dreamworld disintegrated, clinging to the calmness of Dom's voice.

His eyes opened and he gasped for air, but seemed unable to draw in any breath. From somewhere, Mal appeared and grabbed his hand. Dom leapt off his own chair and knelt beside Arthur.

"Dom, what…I just came down and heard—"

"He's just having a reaction to the dream." He turned to Arthur. "It's okay. Just breathe in slowly, slower, slower, that's it," he coached him and felt his pulse, letting go when it dropped to an acceptable rate.

When he was able to breathe again, Arthur pushed away from them. "How could you do that to me?"

Dom watched him closely. "I didn't do anything. Whatever you saw was all part of your sub-conscious. Nothing back there was real."

"It's true, Arthur. It feels so real, but it was just a dream," Mal told him.

Arthur drew a hand over his face roughly. "I know, I just…"

Laying a hand on the younger man's shoulder, Dom quietly urged him to continue. "What was that back there?"

Arthur looked down at his hands. "I knew it was too good to be true," he whispered. "When I saw Jason…I knew it, but it felt so real, I hoped…" He looked up at them. "I killed him. I killed my little brother."

There was no judgment in their eyes at his declaration as he had feared. Over the next hour, he slowly told them what had happened.

"It was not your fault, Arthur," Mal said when he finished. "It was only an accident. You could not have known what would happen."

Arthur shook his head. "No, I could have—"

"No, you couldn't," Dom interrupted. "You loved your brother; you can't believe you would ever hurt him intentionally. You did everything you could to protect him. Don't blame yourself."

Mal knelt in front of him and grasped his face between her hands, forcing him to look her in the eye. "It was not your fault," she repeated. "I know that you must run through everything a hundred times, but you could not have known what you know now. Jason would not want you to blame yourself."

"But…"

"_Non_," she said firmly, "he would not. If you had died and he had lived, would you want him to live his life blaming himself for something he could not have helped?" She shook her head. "No, you must live your life to the fullest. Do not waste it."

She let go of his face and Arthur looked away. He still felt the ache of Jason's loss, but in his heart he knew she was right. Slowly he nodded.

**A/N: So I kind of made up some facts here….I have no idea if Dom was one of the originators of dream tech, but I don't have the movie on hand so just consider it AU if you will. Hope you enjoyed this latest installment. Please review!**


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